


'Til the Fire Finally Dies Out

by MissNaya



Category: DCU
Genre: Breastfeeding, F/M, Incest Kink, Jason was 17 or so when they first got together, Lactation Kink, Mommy Issues, Past Underage, he's over 18 now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-14
Updated: 2017-05-14
Packaged: 2018-10-31 21:56:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10908231
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissNaya/pseuds/MissNaya
Summary: Jason teams up with his old ally, Talia al Ghul, for a mission. One night, he learns of a problem she's been having ever since her short pregnancy with Damian. What kind of a partner would he be if he didn't help her through it?





	'Til the Fire Finally Dies Out

**Author's Note:**

> surprise I write m/f too
> 
> [Lonely Island voice] happy mother's day

Sometimes, Jason gets wrapped up in situations he never would have expected. “Being adopted by Batman” and “coming back to life” are the two big ones, but ever since his resurrection, he's gotten himself into a lot of weird shit. For example, he never thought he'd end up working with Talia al Ghul again; they'd fallen out of contact after his whole revenge-on-Batman plan didn't work out.

Still, fighting by her side wasn't particularly abnormal. Hell, even settling down in some rocky outcropping for the night with her wasn't the weird part. No, the weird part came when he heard her mutter an Arabic curse under her breath, and turned his head to see her fondling her breast through her clothes.

Jason's eyes linger, of course, because he expects to see her with a wound they hadn't gotten around to tending yet. He's being considerate, is all. And, to be fair, there is a damp patch on the front of her shirt that she seems pretty annoyed about. But when she touches it and pulls her hand back, her fingertips don't come away red.

“Er, are you...?” Jason asks. She looks up to meet his eyes, which is when he turns his head away and tries to pretend like he hadn't been staring.

“It is a hormonal issue,” she tells him, and out of the corner of his eye, Jason can see her shrug off her shirt. “I've been having this problem ever since I carried Damian.”

“Oh.” Jason tries really hard to focus on cleaning his guns. “Thought he was grown in some kinda artificial womb.”

“He was, for most of his gestation,” Talia says. Jason hears another article of clothing hit the stone floor, and keeps his eyes glued on his pistol. “Which makes this issue all the more vexing.”

He's about to throw out some hopefully-not-too-awkward apology, but he feels her soft hand on his arm. He stiffens and turns, keeping his eyes on her face, but it's impossible not to notice her bare shoulders.

“Help me,” she says.

Jason gulps. “What?”

Then her mouth is on his, as soft and warm as he remembers. That's as good an invitation as any, so he puts his gun down and sets his hands on her waist. She threads her fingers through his hair, pulling him close, and god, he missed being kissed like this, with confidence and power that only a woman from the League of Assassins could muster.

She tugs him back until he has her pinned against the rock wall, and then he feels her pull at his hair, directing him downward. Momentarily lost in sensation, he kisses down her neck, smelling sweat and blood and something soft and floral underneath it all, and peppers her skin with little bites that make her sigh. It isn't until he gets down to her breast and sees the wetness beading up on her nipple that he remembers she asked him for help.

“Y-you, uh,” he starts, licking his lips and looking up at her. “You want me to...?”

“This fullness is distracting,” she says, like it's nothing. “You can spit if you'd like, but make sure you get it all out.”

Jason wants to tell her she could stand to be a lot more explicit with her instructions, but Talia al Ghul is not a woman you talk back to. Particularly not when she's allowing your head near her breasts, and has her hands close to your throat.

Not that Jason wants to argue. He feels the heat of arousal stir in his gut, despite this being one of the weirder sexual situations he's found himself in. And he'd be lying if he tried to claim he hadn't been thinking about Talia that way for most of their mission. Something about taking down enemies with a beautiful, deadly woman by his side never fails to fire up his hormones.

So, eyes locked on Talia to make sure he has her approval, Jason darts his tongue out to taste her. The immediate flavor isn't terrible — it doesn't taste like much at all, actually — which emboldens him to lock his lips around the bud of her nipple.

“Mind your teeth,” she says as Jason starts to suck.

The first squirt of milk in his mouth takes him by surprise, but he manages not to let it show on his face. Now he can taste it properly; it's sweeter than normal milk, but otherwise not that different. He doesn't know why he expected otherwise. He swallows it down instead of spitting it out, and the gentle curl of her fingers in the hair at the base of his skull makes it all the more worth it.

He continues to suck, and Talia, who had been so rigid before, gradually relaxes under his ministrations. She's so gentle with him, almost motherly in the way she strokes his hair, and it should probably freak him out, but every contented sigh only serves to spur Jason on. _He's_ content like this, too, practically in her lap, her milk evoking that sleepy feeling that only warm milk can.

He remains hard throughout it all. _You learn something new about yourself every day,_ he thinks.

Slowly, his hand creeps up her side, over smooth tan skin until he's cupping her other breast. With her nipple situated between his first and second fingers, he squeezes, watching in wonderment as little rivulets of milk squirt out and drip down his hand.

“Don't make a mess,” she chides him, and he can't help but notice the breathy tone of her voice.

She tugs at his hair, and Jason mutters an apology against her skin, kissing his way across her chest. He licks the milk off of his hand and her skin, then latches onto that nipple, gently sucking it into his mouth.

He notices, looking out over the expanse of her skin, that her breasts are definitely bigger than the last time they'd been together. There's a swell to them that wasn't there before, and they feel firmer just touching them. And here he thought it had just been wishful thinking when he'd caught glimpses of them earlier in the day. Again, he brings a hand up to cup the one that isn't in his mouth, and Talia stiffens, but relaxes when he doesn't squeeze.

He can't help himself. He swipes his tongue over one nipple, and runs the pad of his thumb over the other.

“Don't get distracted,” she warns him. He flashes her a hazy apologetic look through half-lidded blue eyes.

He continues sucking until she hisses in pain and directs his head back to her other breast, where he starts over again. He wonders how it feels, how tender she must be. Is this as arousing for her as it is for him, or is she all business? How does she take care of this problem when she's on her own? He shudders at the thought of Talia, back arched, hands on her breasts, body slick with her own milk.

He tries not to, he really does, but by the time he switches over to her other breast again, he finds himself rutting gently against the stone floor. His actions have gotten a little harsher, a little more careless, and he hears Talia gasp above him.

“Jason,” she breathes, forcing a finger between her skin and his lips. He backs away obediently, sucking the digit down, like he couldn't stop suckling now if he tried.

She lets him do that for a moment, petting his bangs back out of his eyes. Her eyelashes look longer than ever now, he notices, her lips even fuller. There's something almost magical about sleeping with Talia al Ghul, like every part of her is crafted to be irresistible to men.

“You long for a mother's bond, don't you?” she asks, taking him completely by surprise. She pulls her finger out of his mouth and traces it over his lips. “I've always sensed it about you. My beloved... Though his brutality is admirable, he's always lacked a woman's touch in that home of his.”

Jason realizes she means Bruce, and yeah, he can agree that the Batcave has historically been pretty low on estrogen. Beautiful as she is, though, Jason has a hard time reconciling Talia with someone you'd associate with a “woman's touch.” She's more ruthless than many of the men he's gone toe-to-toe with in his lives.

He feels like that's another thing he should keep to himself.

“Uh,” he says eloquently.

“Hush,” Talia says, cupping his cheek. “It's alright to indulge. I've taken care of you once before, Jason. I'm not opposed to doing it again.”

Jason tries to suppress the shiver that runs down his spine and the little voice in the back of his head that tells him he's seriously fucked up for getting so into this.

“Thought I was taking care of you,” he says, pressing a wet kiss to her nipple.

“A mother-son relationship is mutually beneficial,” Talia says, and Jason's brow furrows with something like pleasure. She must sense he doesn't know what to say, because she wraps her arms around his head and pulls him close. “Continue, my sweet. I'm nearly done.”

He latches back onto her, sucking with renewed fervor. She directs his pace with little tugs on his hair, letting him know when to be gentler and when it's okay to speed up again. He can sense that she's getting more sensitive with every passing moment, though, because her “slow down” signals get more frequent, until eventually she curses under her breath in another language and pulls him away.

“The other one,” she murmurs, and Jason leans back down and does what he's told.

Throughout the experience, she sinks lower and lower against the rocks, until, eventually, she's lying flat on her back on the ground. Jason hovers over her, breathing harshly through his nose, crotch pressed up against her leg.

It takes a while for him to notice, but slowly the milk trickles to a stop in his mouth. He can still taste its lingering sweetness, and he swallows the last bit of saliva in his mouth before pulling away to take a breath. He doesn't get long before Talia urges him lower with a hand on top of his head.

“Jason,” she says, and that's all he needs to hear.

He kisses a sloppy trail down her firm midsection, bringing down his hands to undo her pants. He pulls them down her legs, sitting back to help her shed her boots before he gets the pants all the way off. She spreads her legs to beckon him forward, and he presses his mouth to the soft material of her panties.

The smell of her is heady, that musky feminine scent that never fails to drive him wild. He kisses her through the fabric, already damp near her entrance. A soft warning growl tells him it's time to pull them off, so he drags them down obediently, tossing them back with the rest of Talia's clothes.

Jason leans forward again, laving his tongue in a circle over her clit, nose pressed against dense brown curls. She sighs, a prettier sound than Jason remembers, wrapping strong, smooth thighs around his head. He tries to remember what she liked the last time they were together, experimenting with rhythms and patterns until he sets a pace that has her chest heaving with gasps above him.

“Inside me,” she commands — it's always a command with Talia. “Your tongue.”

Jason complies, and _god,_ she tastes sweet here, too. He thrusts his tongue in and out, coating it with her thick juices, swallowing down every bit of it he can manage, while the rest drips down his chin. It's been far too long since he's gone down on a girl; he forgot how hungry he gets for it.

But, no, Talia's not a girl, is she? She's a woman, all robust curves and husky voice, and confident, experienced hands keeping his head exactly where she wants it. She doesn't squeal or whine or make a show of moaning; it's something that would usually fill Jason with anxiety, but the way she clenches around him tells him he's doing a good job.

She directs his mouth back to her clit, and tells him in no uncertain terms, “Use your fingers.” Jason starts with one, but adds a second after she insists, “More. I'm not so delicate.”

He sucks her clit while he thrusts his fingers in and out, cock throbbing in the tight confines of his pants. He wants so badly to fuck her, but her breaths are starting to come faster now, and his number one priority is to make her come. Fingers fisted in his hair keep his face pressed tight to her crotch, and he adds a third finger, which elicits a long, low moan.

“Don't stop, Jason,” she says, as if that's even an option. He doesn't dare to change what he's doing with his tongue, and he feels her start to arch up against him, breath coming out in short, shallow gasps.

Then he feels it: the rapid-fire contractions around his fingers and the slight increase in wetness that spells out her orgasm. Her hands and legs keep him locked in place so hard that it hurts, but he doesn't pause even for a second, delighting in the sound and smell and taste of it all.

He slows down when the bulk of her contractions are over, and she sinks back to the ground again, loosening her grip on him. When he's absolutely sure she's spent, Jason pulls away, and feels her twitch once more around his fingers as he slides them out.

“You've gotten very skilled,” she says, sliding her fingertips over his cheek. “And I don't give compliments lightly.”

He can't help it; he smirks.

“You should see what else I can do,” he says, before licking Talia's wetness off his fingers.

She watches him for a few moments, hair a mess, lower lip a bit redder than the top one — she must have been biting it. Then she pulls him forward by his shirt and crashes their lips together. She explores every bit of his mouth with her tongue, shameless and hungry enough to make Jason shudder. Then she pulls away and brings her lips to his ear.

“Show me,” she mutters.

Jason doesn't hesitate. He kisses her again, shrugs off his jacket, and pulls away only long enough to yank his shirt over his head. She explores his bare chest with long, battle-worn fingers, not-so-subtly mapping out every raised scar.

“Quite the warrior you've become,” she says, nipping his lower lip.

“Couldn't have done it without my lovely benefactor,” he replies. They kiss again, and she hums against his lips.

He undoes his pants and shoves both them and his boxers down to his knees, but doesn't bother with anything more than that. Even if he wanted to take them all the way off, Talia's legs around his waist keep him firmly in place. He rocks forward, cock sliding against her wet folds. With their chests pressed together, he can feel beading moisture near her nipples, too, the last remnants of her milk spurred to the surface.

He presses the head of his cock up against her entrance, waiting for the go-ahead. When Talia's legs tighten around him, and she tilts her head to deepen their kiss, Jason presses forward into the inviting heat.

_Jesus,_ she's tight. Tight enough to clamp down on him in all the right ways, and yet relaxed enough that she doesn't seem to be in any pain, even when he slides in as far as he can go. He rocks his hips once, carefully, and when she arches up to meet him, he allows himself to start up a rhythm.

He'd been so needy the first time they'd done this; his face flushes, remembering it now. It had been almost overwhelming back then, the wetness, the warmth, and it wasn't like he'd had much experience before her. He remembers how she made it no secret exactly how she wanted him to move, and it was nothing like the movies he'd snuck past Bruce and Alfred and watched in the darkness of his room, but somehow, that direction made it even better.

Even now, now that he's grown and much better than he was as a teenager, she still pulls away from the kiss occasionally to mutter instructions against his cheek. “Harder,” and “Slower,” and “ _Roll_ your hips, like that.”

He tries his best to follow each one, but sometimes he loses himself and has to be steadied by her nails digging into his back. He likes the direction, likes knowing exactly what he has to do to elicit those rare and delectable moans from the back of her throat. He swallows each one up right from her lips, reveling in the way she clenches around him. Then he kisses down her jaw, her throat, nestling into that musky floral scent.

“Oh, fuck,” he pants against her neck, sweat-slick hair sticking to his face. “Oh, fuck, Talia. Oh, shit. S-so fucking close—”

She shushes him, arms firm around his head. He can feel her pulse from here, the quick _badumpbadumpbadump_ of someone about as near to losing it as he is. He kisses up a trail of drool near the corner of her mouth.

“Come inside me,” she tells him, breathless, rolling her body against his own. “My sweet boy. Give me everything you have.”

Somehow, though it's far from traditional dirty talk, Talia always knows what to say. He moans into her mouth, and when he feels her second orgasm start up, he lets himself go, fucking her harder and faster until they're both a panting mess. He feels his balls tighten, and he fills her up with cum, some of it leaking out to drip onto the stone beneath them.

By the time they're both spent, he's shivering. He pulls out and lies on top of her, head nestled between her breasts. Her nipples are still dark and swollen from his earlier ministrations, and before he can stop himself, he reaches up to tap one with his fingertip.

“So, uh... If you ever need help with this kinda thing again...” he says, delighting in the way her nipple hardens under his touch.

“You've been very useful,” she says, petting his hair. “I'll consider it.”

That's good enough for him.

 

**Author's Note:**

> follow me on [tumblr](https://dicktofen.tumblr.com/) to send requests and chat about future fics with me!


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